Fall Into Darkness: The Dead Factory
by Demons Dreaming
Summary: Jake Meyers was just an ordinary college kid before the Umbrella Corporation recruited him to work in their last B.O.W. plant left above ground, now Jake fights for his life as the disposal system fails for the first time.
1. Default Chapter

_'Sup foo? This is my first fanfic ever on this site. I hope you enjoy it (and I know you will…) Feel free to drop me some reviews. I'll accept positive or negative feedback as well as flames (trust me, for as nasty as you guys can be, my 10th grade creative English teacher can be worse, so bring it on.) Enjoy_

_-Demons Dreaming_

FALL INTO DARKNESS: The Dead Factory 

**PROLUGUE: Prelude To A Nightmare**

Jake Meyer started out his adult life as a college student going to Raccoon University. A college known for its Special Sciences division more than its wild parties, being backed by The Umbrella Corporation didn't hurt its prestige either. So when Umbrella came knocking on Jake's dorm room door one morning in late September it came as quite a shock to him. He never really was quite the best student in his Special Sciences Viral Microbiology class, but he trudged along, he pulled in pretty solid, if unspectacular A marks. Umbrella however wasn't interested in his grades as much as they were his ability to keep a secret. The Dead Factory as insiders commonly refer it to was introduced to Jake all at once. Nothing was kept secret. Umbrella's offer was quite clear. 100,000 a year, benefits, a company car to replace the one he'd been driving, and an Umbrella sanctioned home. For what to him was considered easy, if not somewhat boring work.

However Jake soon found himself stuck in the most dangerous line of work he could ever imagine. Umbrella had lied to him. They'd shown him a plush air-conditioned work area. Clean and shiny with all the tools and research equipment and medical books he could ever need, a medical research lab where he'd apparently design new drugs and assorted "other materials" for the company to use. What those "other materials" were Jake didn't know. And frankly he didn't care, 100,000 a year plus benefits and a new car can make a guy do anything….


	2. The Truth of The Matter is This

Chapter 1: The Truth of The Matter Is This….

It had been several months since Jake had discovered the true secret behind Umbrella's so called "Dead Factory". The company that Jake had originally been so desperate to work for had turned its back on him. They stuck him in The B.O.W. disposal lab on his first day of work, a day in which Umbrella's true secrets were finally revealed. The company was secretly developing Bio-Weapons, horrible monsters straight out of a horror novel, and Jake and a team of other scientists were in charge of disposing of them when they didn't work out.

"God I hate this shit." Stated Jake as he turned a few knobs and pulled a couple of levers. "Come on, match damn you, match." Working the water sample machine was really an exercise in trial and error than a use of any scientific skill.

"Jake don't freak out. What's wrong?' Asked a senior scientist.

"Nothing, except this thing won't work. I think we need to create a new vaccine, because this strand of the virus doesn't respond to treatments from any combination of antibodies." Replied Jake sounding mildly frustrated.

"Calm down Jake. Just use whichever treatment works best." Stated the senior scientist. "Its not rocket science."

"You're right, except its much more complicated." Replied Jake.

"Jake could I chat with you alone for a moment?" Asked another young scientist, James Iverson.

James and Jake had been best friends since college, and when Jake got picked up by Umbrella he insisted James come along as well, insisting that James had the better grades of the two anyway. Now Jake and James couldn't leave, even if they wanted to and Jake still felt guilty about getting James involved at all.

"Just a sec." Replied Jake with a flip of his wrist. "Almost got it. There, perfect. Antibodies A, B, C, and D, combined on minor infrequent levels are capable of breaking down cellular bodies of the B.O.W. pigs sir." Stated Jake.

"Good to hear it." Stated the senior scientist. "Except they're breaking it down too slowly, we're set to get our next batch of B.O.W. pigs in about an hour or so. And time is of the essence around here Jake so I'm going to go with B type antibody with long stretches of A and C type interspersed in between, its sloppy but its quick."

"Jake can I talk to you please?"

"Sure James."

The two men walked out of the room and stepped down the long stairwell, the metal floor clanged underfoot as they reached the landing.

"God what is that stench?" Shouted James.

"B.O.W. pigs." Replied Jake. "You never really do get used to it."

The two men exited the room quickly and headed down the long hallway to the break room. The two men quietly walked in and sat down.

Sitting adjacent to them were two of Umbrella's private soldiers. Striker 10 and Striker 9 of Umbrella's Strike Team Delta 12.

"Hey look, eggheads. Its nice to see you guys come out of you're little cave one in a while" Said Striker 9

"Funny guys, very funny." Stated James flatly.

"Hey don't worry, I'm just joking. Or am I?" Asked Striker 9 calmly as he rose from his chair and walked out. Striker 10 didn't follow.

"Don't worry about Wully there, he just likes to tease the new guys sometimes, he's really a great guy." Said Striker 10 as he got up and walked out behind him. "Hey Wully, wait up." Shouted Striker 9 as he jogged down the hallway.

"So what is it you interrupted my work for James?"

"Jake, I just wanna know something man."

"Yeah what?"

"Do you really like it here?"

"Hell no man. I'm stuck working in some God forsaken dirt hole, with pricks who refuse to listen to my opinions on anything. They won't even get the kind of doughnuts I like."

"The chocolate ones with the little green sprinkles." Replied Jake.

"Yeah those. I mean they put me in command of the disposal sector but none of my subordinates listen to me. This place is gonna be really dangerous to these people someday. I mean, the antibodies just aren't effective enough against this strand of the virus. Not to mention the liquid medicine is probably the poorest quality its ever been, and there's hardly enough of that as it is. Last week we had to bring in some MPs to do the zombie B.O.W. Guineas execution style when the liquid disposal system went down because there wasn't enough to keep it operational."

"So what was that like?" Asked James curiously.

"Well it was messy. And the probability of the bullets killing them outright wasn't very high anyway so it took a while."

"Glad I wasn't there."

"I'm sure you are." Replied Jake in a playful tone.

"Did they make you clean up?"

"No the old guy did, but I had to help."

"Well that sucks."

"We should get back to work man." Said Jake as he stood up.

"You're right let's go."

Jake walked out first as James stuck his right hand into his pocket. He clicked off his tape recorder before joining his friend in the hallway.


	3. Chapter 2: The Devil's Advocate

_A/N: Yeah I know, no real action so far, but trust me it's coming, and it'll be back (or really here for the first time) With a Vengeance. As always read and review because I love you (hey look at that I'm a poet…) And as always flames aren't just welcomed but encouraged._

_Demons Dreaming_

Chapter 2: The Devil's Advocate

As James headed up the stairs towards the corporate executive offices he soon realized he had sold his soul to the Devil, or at least his mortal equivalent. James "Oliver" Cromwell was the head Executive of the entire "Dead Factory". He sat comfortably in his cheap power suits, plush leather chair, and his big oak desk, he was Umbrella's highest ranking executive and had been given the position as a reward for his hard work with the company. But everyone around the "Dead Factory" knew the real story; the last man left in charge of Umbrella's Raccoon sector, a certain Trevor Mortenson had been assassinated in a violent and extremely hostile coup. Although Umbrella's bullshit story involved something about an anti-Umbrella environmentalist group people could pretty easily deduct that it was James Cromwell's own personal security task force, which carried out the deed. Why else would Strike Force Delta 12 be so high on the payroll when all the other MP's remain nearly faceless and thought of as unimportant?

These thoughts rolled around in James' head as he headed up the long staircase. The uncarpeted and unclean and sometimes downright disgusting lab floors gave way to a long flowing burgundy carpet, the Umbrella logo emblazoned on it. James stopped at the door, the gold plaque read Director of Internal Affairs: James Cromwell. James hesitated momentarily and then knocked. The door opened and Cromwell was there to meet him.

"Sir I've got what you wanted."

"Good to here it dear boy." Replied Cromwell with a smothering amount of false appreciation.

"It seems to me Jake wants to leave. He's very discontent with his job here sir." Said James flatly as he sat down in a faux leather chair set uncomfortably close to Cromwell's desk.

"Well, what can we do about that?"

"Sir. I honestly don't know." James hoped to not give this psychopath any ideas. The last employee who was discontent with his job was boiled alive in the incinerator and of course Jake had to help do the burning. "Thing is sir, everybody has their bad days. But Jakes been having a bad month. I think the pressure is really starting to get to him."

"So what do you suggest?" A coy smile formed around Cromwell's slightly wrinkled face, he had his ideas.

"How about, you let us take a few days off, maybe a week."

"You'll have to use your vacation time. I can't let you have time off on the grounds of work related mental fatigue without a Doctor's note. After all, anyone could pretend to be crazy…" A smirk now filled out Cromwell's wispy lips.

"I know sir, no one is really crazy." Replied James as he rose from the chair and handed Cromwell the tape recorder.

"Is there anything revealing on this tape I should know of beforehand?" Asked Cromwell.

James couldn't tell if he was joking or not as he answered, "Its pretty much the basics of what we just spoke about. And something about Jake's favorite doughnuts."

Cromwell chuckled dryly as James walked out the door.

'That sick fuck, he's got his own agenda.'

James tried to shake the eerie feeling that Cromwell was planning something, but he just couldn't get over their encounter, Cromwell had just seemed too nice, too pleasant for his own good.

In his office Cromwell spun around in his big leather chair a phone in his hand. Flatly he stated, "Get the base ready, operation Crimson is operational." Before hanging up.


	4. Chapter 3: The Devil Made Dirt, And Dirt...

_A/N: All right, another cliffhanger! Yay? Maybe not, but I promise this is the first big action chapter of a story, if you like zombies attacking well armed human soldiers, and said well armed human soldiers shooting zombies, this is damn sure the chapter for you._

_-Demons Dreaming (I'm Coming Back Again)…._

Chapter 3: The Devil Made Dirt, And Dirt Hurts

James stalked the hallways waiting for Jake to finish his shift, the dreaded night shift. Chills went up James' spine just thinking about it. Having to help bring in B.O.W.'s from the truck because the delivery teams' last shift was at eleven didn't make for a pleasant night for anyone, least of all one inexperienced scientist who was on the brink of mental collapse anyway. Finally the clock struck one, and Jake's shift from Hell was over for another few weeks. All the lab personal were on rotating night shift duty, and this just happened to be Jake's week on deck, and it further served to compound the bad month he'd been having.

Jake walked in from the outside, shivering slightly the early fall breeze cutting its way through Jake's thin jacket.

"Hey Jake wait up." Shouted James as Jake brushed right past him.

Jake looked incensed, his face a ghostly pale white. "They're burying them now, the crazy bastards, they're burying the zombies." Stammered Jake.

'Wow he must be pretty upset, he used the zed word.' James thought.

Jake was normally professional as always when referring to the zombies, usually calling them pigs, guineas or "the experiments" but never using the dreaded "Z" word.

"Why are they burying them?" Asked James as he stumbled trying to keep up a walking pace with Jake.

"Because we're out of vaccine James. We're out of the very thing that keeps this whole base operational." Jake was frantic his eyes darted about the inside of his face, James was surprised they didn't pop out.

Jake stopped suddenly spinning on his heels as several MPs came stumbling through the door leading to the outside, one of them had a huge bite mark through his throat, blood splurted everywhere.

"One of them got me, they got Dekkers too." Shouted the MP as he stumbled blindly towards the med lab.

The world spun into utter chaos as several MPs back-peddled into the room firing, cracking MP5 weapons fire was the sonic wake up call for James, zombies hungrily surged in after them.

"We gotta go!" Screamed James as he grabbed Jake.

The two dashed around heading for the break room as several groups of MPs armed with MP5's and riot shields raced past them.

"Fire, fire, fire, keep them out've the base!" Screamed the MP commander Carl Harrison.

His men stood in a stationary solid line firing their rapid- fire weapons, shields being held with their left arms the MPs fired their weapons with their rights.

The zombies however were gradually gaining ground. Harrison nearly called for a retreat but before he could, the mechanical door behind him wisped open; an innumerable amount of zombies surged outward. The MPs were cut off as they made their great last stand. Only Harrison and one of the other MPs, Richard Atkinson made it out of the deathtrap alive.

"Retreat!" Shouted Harrison, as he back peddled down the hallway, Atkinson trailing behind him.

The two men blasted through the break room door, only to find Jake and James hidden behind an overturned table.

"Atkinson, gimme a hand with this table." Said Harrison as he and Atkinson lifted the table and jammed it in front of the doorway. The door buckled and nearly broke as the zombies pounded on it.

"Hey, we were hiding behind that." Said James as he stood up visibly shaken.

"Yeah, well if you don't want those things getting in here, you'll have to give up your little fort for now kiddo." Replied Harrison sharply.

"Who are you two anyway?" Asked James.

"I'm MP commander Carl Harrison."

The tall black man behind him introduced himself, "And I'm MP soldier Richard Atkinson."

"I'm James Iverson. And that's Jake Meyers we're both research scientists here."

Jake sat in the corner, shaking. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he waved hello silently.

"So Carl-"

"Harrison, kid."

"So, Commander Harrison, what're we going to do now?" Asked James.

"Well, lets see…" Harrison stood momentarily tapping his foot on the ground, "They've wiped out almost my whole team, and now they're trying to bang down the door. Lets wait and see what happens."

"Are you nuts?" Asked James.

"Of course not you moron. But do you see any other way out?" Asked Harrison.

"How about that door right there?" James pointed to the door in the far left corner in the back of the room.

"That's the coffee room James." Stated Jake. "Most of the important areas were sealed off the moment the contagions spread through the facility. The only way out of this room is through that door. Jake pointed towards the entrance; the zombies were still pounding furiously at it.

"No way, that's not the only damn door. There's gotta be another door around here somewhere." Shouted James.

"I'm with Jake." Stated Harrison. "Atkinson give me your gun."

Atkinson handed his gun over to Harrison as Harrison reloaded his own. Atkinson moved the table before Harrison kicked open the door.

Harrison rolled outside firing as he went. Several zombies fell as he backpedaled down the hallway leading the zombies away from the room. Harrison felt his way backwards as he walked into a metal shutter where an open passage should have been.

"Shit!" Shouted Harrison as his guns ran empty, Harrison reloaded one quickly and continued firing, as he spun around into another group of zombies behind him. He briefly fired on the group before his gun once again clicked empty. Harrison panicked as he quickly drew his nine-millimeter berretta and drew a tight bead on the first zombie, he fired and it fell with a large hole blown through its face.

'Shit! I'm dead!' Harrison's mind screamed the fairly obvious until someone began firing at the group of zombies in front of him. Atkinson had gone out with nothing but his 9Mil to rescue him. The zombies however wouldn't be caught off guard as they spun around, Atkinson a deadly marksman managed to take out two of them, but the group soon enveloped him, a crunching sound could be heard over the rampant gunfire as the zombies tore Atkinson to pieces. Harrison fired and fired and fired some more as he gradually cleared his way to a doorway that was unobstructed by a metal shutter. As he finally reached it he kicked it inward with a mighty shot and stumbled in, locking it behind him.

'Holy shit, I made it.' Was the first relieved thought to cross Harrison's mind. However it was short lived as a zombie sat up from behind a desk next to him. Startled Harrison took aim, but never got the chance to fire. A bullet exploded forth through his throat, a geyser of blood shooting spraying forth all over the clean office floors. Harrison fell, gagging on the blood as it poured from his throat onto the burgundy-carpeted floor. Harrison watched as his assailant walked up to him, the brown loafers, the white slacks, and the long black coat could only mean one man. Cromwell fired again this time killing Harrison with a single bullet through the head.


End file.
